


Waking Up in Vegas

by GlutenFreeWaffles



Category: Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types, The Avengers (2012)
Genre: Domestic Avengers, Drunken Confessions, Fluffy Feelings, Friends who want more than just very good benefits, Hand Jobs, Las Vegas, Love Confessions, M/M, One Shot, Song references, Sort of wall sex, Steve is a stubborn sonuvabitch, Tony Stark forgets things when he's drunk
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-11-02
Updated: 2012-11-02
Packaged: 2017-11-17 14:13:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,399
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/552430
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GlutenFreeWaffles/pseuds/GlutenFreeWaffles
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tony forgets things when he's drunk, a trait that doesn't come in handy during his 'totally not romantic' weekend in Vegas with Steve.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Waking Up in Vegas

When Tony Stark’s first thought in the morning is “ow”, he knows the previous night was either dubiously fun or a complete disaster. Or… you know; maybe both, because the two didn’t necessarily cancel each other out. 

Though this particular morning, when Tony had to shield his eyes from the burning luminosity of sunlight at the unspeakably early hour of eleven o’clock, he didn’t feel either satisfied or shamed. Rather, he was very confused. 

“JARVIS,” he grumbled, not daring to look at the time on his phone. “Why didn’t you wake me sooner? You know… before the sun could burn through my retinas and cause untold permanent damage?” 

He waited for a response, but JARVIS didn’t answer. 

The lack of a smartass comment from his ‘obedient’ A.I. puzzled him into a sense of alertness. “JARVs?” he called out, still not willing to open his eyes completely. “Hey, yo. Um, wake-y wake-y.“ He tried sitting up, but the sudden rush of blood through his body sent a piercing pain to his temple, forcing him to collapse back on the pillow. 

Grunting in pain and immediately applying pressure to the aching spot with the heel of his palm, he clenched a fist into the silk sheets and-

Wait just a damn second; he could’ve sworn his sheets were made of an Egyptian cotton… not silk. Which meant he wasn’t in his bed. Which posed the daring question of where in fuck’s sake was he? 

He forced his left eyelid open and took in the view of a somewhat familiar hotel room, the memory of his car trip with Steve across the desert to Nevada slowly staring to ease its way back into his mind. 

Okay, so far so good. They were in Vegas, he knew that much.  
A familiar place, close to home, and he had shown up with Steve, so the likeliness he wasn’t currently, utterly, alone was a bit reassuring.  
Maybe he would finally catch a break during one of these damn hangovers. 

As he finally opened his eyes all the way, he panned his head around to see some discarded clothes draped lazily over four-star worthy furniture. There was a window across the bed, and he was able to get a view of the strip from where he sat. 

He tried to figure out which hotel he was in from his position in relation to the street. Caesar’s Palace? Maybe… though it was a bit too cliché for Tony’s usual taste. However, if he recalled correctly, it had been Steve’s first time to Nevada, so they probably needed a little cliché for sightseeing purposes. Spiral elevators were very important in one’s casino education.

But, shit… why wasn’t he remembering any of it? 

He lazily rolled over and glanced at the nightstand. On it sat a telephone, a lamp that looked like it could’ve paid the tuition for attendance at a private university for a year, and an information packet-slash-room service menu labeled ‘The Bellagio”. 

The Bellagio! That’s right! Steve had wanted to see the fountains. 

“Wait ‘til you see the casino,” Tony had added playfully while putting down nearly $600 for the night’s stay.  
That had to have been a good twenty hours ago. 

Tony swung his legs over the edge of the bed and furiously rubbed his eyelids until he saw stars behind them. “Wake up” he kept grunting to himself. Wake up and remember…  
And maybe finding underwear should be added to that list as well. 

 

After ten minutes, three ‘ow’s, and over fifty colorful curses, Tony was finally able to scramble out the bedroom door and into the suite’s living room with the minimal definition of decency. He had managed to put on the pants he wore last night, with an unbuttoned matching jacket, and no shirt underneath. In times of headaches and the lingering taste of scotch on your tongue, shirts were overrated.

As it came into view, the Tony noted the suite was actually really nice, much to his surprise.  
Before he’d even made a name as Iron Man, he had been pretty well known as just ‘Tony Stark’ in Sin City. However, his visits were usually over long weekends and involved some cheap ‘no smoking’ room at the Palms. Pepper must have arranged them renting a room here. There was no way in hell Captain America would have agreed to spend the night at a Playboy Bunny Hotel. No matter how cool the pool was. 

But, wow, this place was actually really nice. It didn’t have the makeshift bed/couch lovechild or mini fridge with $20 snacks in it that Tony had grown accustomed too. Instead, it was set up like a penthouse, with a little sitting area and kitchenette to match. 

Steve was standing in this kitchen, one arm supporting his weight on the counter, the other holding a cup of coffee. He was reading the newspaper lying flat in front of him before looking up when Tony entered. 

He scoffed before peering at his wristwatch. “Well… you’re up early,” he hitched an eyebrow sarcastically in that stupid ‘Captain America’ voice of his. Fuck him. 

“The early worm gets eaten by the bird,” Tony replied, nearly stumbling as he tried to make his way over. 

“I’m surprised you were even able to get out of bed.” Steve avoided making eye contact, which gave Tony the very, very, bad feeling that he’d done something wrong last night. “With all the alcohol you were drinking, I’m surprised you don’t have a mind splitting hangover. Hell, I’m half-surprised you didn’t die of alcohol poising.” 

“Who says I’m not going to?” Tony couldn’t help but smile to himself because… well, because he’s an asshole. “Come on, you know me better than that, Steve. I’m a man who can hold his liquor. “

Steve guffawed, which actually kind of scared Tony because he honestly had no fucking idea what had occurred the night before. Besides the fact that he must have been drunk and Steve was now laughing at the fact that he said he could hold his liquor. 

Tony groaned, reaching for his forehead again. “Keep it down, okay? My head’s killing me. Fuck, are the lights, like, really bright? They feel really bright.” 

Steve immediately shut up. Not out of obedience and thoughtfulness, but out of surprise and disbelief. 

He nearly choked on his own words when he said, “Well maybe that’s what you deserve, what with the way you acted last night.” 

“Sorry, come again?” 

Steve let out a painful chuckle and shook his head. “You know what I mean, Stark…” 

When Tony obviously didn’t know what Steve meant, the solider continued. “One minute you’re promising to stay sober because ‘it’s our trip’ and ‘I want to show you the shows and the casinos, not the bars’. A-and the next minute you’re downing hard liquor like it’s water. It’s not healthy and I you know I don’t approve of it!” 

“Of course you don’t approve,” Tony huffed. “Because Goody Steve fucking America helps cats from trees, and teaches third graders that alcohol is evil.” 

“It’s not that-it’s… it’s not about you getting drunk Tony. It has nothing to do with that, it’s-”

“You could’ve fooled me.” Tony interjected. 

Steve, who’d obviously been holding in steam for the last few minutes and needed to get it out, took a deep breath before changing the course of the subject. 

“You act like just because I’m Captain America, that means I’m some immaculate novice. I’m sick of it. My whole life isn’t just helping grannies across the street, okay? I’m an experienced adult. I’ve been drunk, Tony. Before the serum I had my fair share of nights out with the boys at a bar. Just because I can’t now doesn’t suddenly turn me into some… Puritan.” 

Politically Incorrect Steve was Tony’s favorite flavor. He couldn’t help throwing a little fire into the flame. “Well then why are you so pissed that I got a little tipsy?”

Steve grunted because his point was obviously not getting through to his friend.  
“Listen… I know who you are and how the public sees you and how you act with girls, and that’s… fine. Okay maybe ‘fine’ is stretching it, but it’s who you are, and though I don’t necessarily respect the way you act, I respect that it’s your decision to present yourself that way.”  
Steve folded up the newspaper, uninterested in the cover story about Harrison Ford or the side-column advertising the iPhone 5. 

“You’re brothels and bars, Tony, and I’m not! And it’s not because I’m some clean-cut ancient prude, and, by the way, yes, pornography existed in the ‘30s, thank you very much. It’s just because… that’s not how I want to act in public. And that’s my choice. And I was stupid enough to think that I could’ve changed yours.” 

Tony had slowly begun getting his memory back. Walking with Steve down the strip and pointing out the Luxor and New York New York….  
They had driven from the house in Malibu because Tony was invited to the opening of some bar near the city. It was then brought up that Steve had never been, and when the other half of the Avengers declined the offer to join, they decided to make a ‘two person romantic getaway’ out of it. That would explain why Tony bought the nice hotel room on the strip and why there was a champagne bottle on ice sitting on the counter.  
However, the hours of 6:00 pm to 4:00 AM still remained foggy. 

“Okay, uh… speak slower because I’m confused and not on medication,” Tony prompted. “So, you’re mad at me because I got hammered last night… but in the same breath your saying my personality as an irresponsible alcoholic is my choice?” 

Steve hit the counter so hard Tony though he was going to rebound. “No! Jesus, would you just stop interrupting and listen to me? I’m sayi-“

“I’m not interrupting.” 

On an unrelated note, Tony was suddenly glad looks couldn’t kill. 

“I’m saying,” Steve continued slowly, as if to warn Tony that his sentence was starting again. “That I’m angry at you for what you did. Not because I’m scandalized by liquor.” 

“So I had a few drinks too many! What I don’t understand is why you’re so pissed over it.“

“Because you said you wouldn’t!” Steve finally looked at Tony, and the elder(?) was finally able to see the hollowness in those blue eyes. They were slightly moist and a little red. And in that moment this whole issue became ten times worse because he realized he had, somehow, really hurt Steve.  
“Because you forget things when you’re drunk, Tony! And sometimes things happen then that are important and you wake up the next morning too sick to remember them!”

And bingo! Tony couldn’t decide whether to be happy that things were finally starting to make sense or scared shitless because he’d obviously brought himself into a whole new world of hurt. His head was throbbing enough already, and a sudden shot of pain attacked him again. 

“Steve…” he was finally able to clarify after the stinging eased down. “Did something important happen last night that I’m not remembering?” 

Steve tried to swallow but it came out more as an audibly gulp, and he quickly looked away from Tony again, focusing once more on the newspaper.

“… Yes. Yes, as a matter of fact something did. But it’s not important anymore, this conversation is over.” 

“Did we… last night?” He didn’t know why he asked. He regretted it the second the words passed over his lips. 

“What Tony? You’re not proud enough to say the words?” 

Tony didn’t reply. 

“Glad to hear it was good enough for you to remember,” Steve answered, wetting his lips. “Yes, yes we did. Why do you sound so surprised?” He took a sip of bitter coffee. “Not like we’ve haven’t done it before.” 

“God, what did I do? Spare me your dirty looks and put me out of my misery, will you? I didn’t cum in my pants did I? Look, I’ve been known to do a lot of less-than normal things in the bedroom, so-“ 

“No, it’s not- It’s nothing like that.” 

“Well then what? What did I do last night to deserve this torture? Fuck, just shoot me already.” 

“Nothing happened okay? Nothing. Don’t worry about it; I said this conversation was over. Now go take a shower and put on a change of clothes, you smell like vomit. I’ll go to the front desk and see if I can get you some aspirin.” 

\--

After a quick hot shower, fresh towels laid out courtesy of Steve (because even when he was mad, he made knights in shining armor look bad in comparison to his chivalry), pill taking, and some teeth brushing, Tony finally began to feel more like his usual himself.

While he had rinsing his hair, Billy Joel’s ‘Big Shot’ finally stopped looping in his mind and he was able to recall going to a nice restaurant in the hotel and ordering some carbonara dish that proved to be disappointing.  
Remembering was good. Remembering was very good.  
So, there was dinner and then… Love! They saw ‘Love’ by Cirque du Soleil. Because Steve was turning out to be a very big Beatles fan ever since thawing and it had been a tad depressing when Tony had to break the news that the ‘Beatlemania’ craze was over forty years ago.

Massaging the suds into his head, bits and pieces of conversation came back.

‘Come to the opening with me.’

He lathered his arm with soap.

‘Nah, you go on ahead without me. Clubs aren’t really… my thing.”

He’d soaped and rinsed his stomach three times without realizing it.

Firstly, it’s not a club, it’s a bar. Besides, what would go wrong? Scared someone with a camera’ll catch you getting a lap dance?’ 

It wasn’t until he was running the coarse bristles of his toothbrush over his back molars that the line ‘Where the hell have you been? It’s three in the morning, I’ve been trying to reach you on your cell phone for hours!’ snuggled itself into the corner of his memory. 

He gripped both sides of the sink with such force his hands became pallid. He didn’t want to look at his own reflection, so he kept a steady glare at the drain, though he couldn’t care less about what he was looking at. He needed to know more details. Without removing his eyes from that spot in the sink, he ran over what he knew. 

Events of Tony Stark’s Day: Yesterday

1\. Get invited to the opening of bar in Vegas  
2\. Drive to Vegas (with Steve)  
3\. Check into one of the nicest hotels on the strip  
4\. Show Steve around the city  
5\. Have crap Italian food for dinner  
6\. See a show  
7\. ???  
8\. Go to bar  
9\. Get wasted (maybe laid?) while missing Steve’s calls  
10\. Come back to the suite to a pissed off Steve  
11\. Do/say something to anger Steve that you’ll later forget and then resent (AKA: ???) 

 

Having sex with Steve was somewhere on that list too, but Tony was having a hard time placing it in an appropriate slot. 

#8 and #9 were looking a bit suspicious, and though he could process the figure of a skimpily dressed brunette, he highly doubted anything more than a strip tease was provided to him last night. 

It was obvious that there was more to #11 than just missing the calls, because Tony always forgets to call people back and Steve never says another word about it, since Steve was such a forgiving fellow and always gave others the benefit of the doubt. Because “sometimes things happen then that are important and you wake up the next morning too sick to remember them”.

Tony hit his head against the mirror, and yelled out when it hurt. 

\-- 

“What happened?” Tony demanded, marching out of the bathroom with only the towel wrapped around his waist clothing his otherwise naked body. 

Steve had been in the middle of pulling an orange out of the fridge. He starred at Tony in silence for a second, as if his brain were processing the question and slowly absorbing it. Either that or he was just taking in the sight of a naked Tony, but… same difference.  
His furrowed eyebrows straightened out when he finally understood the context. “I told you not let it bother you,” he sighed, closing the fridge door. “It’s honestly not a big deal, stop letting it get to you.” 

Tony gripped the towel so it wouldn’t fall as he made his way over. “No. No, Steve. I can’t do that. You have to understand this has been eating at me all morning-”

“Noon.”

“… What?” 

“It’s been eating at you all noon. Morning ended hours before you woke up.”

“Pardon me, anything before twelve is morning. Besides … ‘all noon’? I mean who says- Nobody says that Steve.” 

Steve tried to hold back a chuckle and Tony saw it. And for once (thank god) he didn’t feel the need to ameliorate himself by shoving it in Steve’s face. 

“Steve, I-“ he was slow at picking the right words, careful in deciding the order. ”You’re my best friend. And if we can’t trust each other then I’m sort of screwed over for everything else under the sun. I mean… I really can’t afford for that to include you.” 

“… You really want to know,” Steve asked in the form of a statement, narrowing his eyes in an ‘are you seriously going on about this?’ manner. 

“I will put a bullet through my brain if you don’t,” Tony warned.

Steve sighed as he began to peel the orange with his hands. “You feeling any better?”

“What? Yes, I just have a migraine, no biggie. Now tell me.” 

Steve looked down at his fruit, seeming more intent on his snack than catering Tony’s curiosity. “You really are making way too big of a deal out of this.” 

“And you, my friend, should win an award for persistence. Just tell me this: Was it something I did or something I said?” 

Steve sighed while placing the orange on the counter. “Tony-“ 

“Was it something I did? Or something I said? I can wait here all week. And that is a literal statement. I can very well afford to rent this place out for… at least five more days.” 

Steve pressed his tongue to the inside of his cheek in thought. “It was something you said,” he admitted, understanding Tony wasn’t going to let this drop. He hated being out of control and Steve was well aware of this. He wasn’t going to torture his best friend. 

Before Tony could ask another question, Steve decided to just get it out and over with, despite how embarrassing it might have been. After all, they had seen each other naked, so how much worse could this possibly be? 

“Last night,” he let out in one breath, and then licked his lips before finding the nerve to say more. “Last night… when we… well, you know we-“ 

“Banged?” Tony offered for a verb, hoping to speed things along. 

“Slept together,” Steve provided instead while Tony ignored his eyebrow. “You said… forget it, it’s… it’s stupid.” 

“Hey, look at me,” Tony snapped, when Steve appeared as though he was about to leave. He gripped Steve’s wrist out of instinct, forcing their eyes to meet. Through that stare, Tony saw that Steve might have actually been afraid of what he was going to say. It sounded like a stretch, but it was obvious his pupils were rounded with a layer of shame and guilt. “No, Steve. Obviously it is not stupid.”  
Steve glanced at the half-peeled fruit next to him and then shifted his eyes back to Tony. 

“Now tell me what I said,” the brunette instructed. 

Though he kept a cool outward composure, Tony was having such an internal meltdown he could feel his childhood therapist cringing from miles away. He had been intoxicated and fucked and kissed and who knows what would’ve slipped out of his mouth at a time like that? He braced himself for the worst; expecting to have said someone else’s name during an orgasm, to have unintentionally insulted Steve, or to have blabbered something totally ridiculous like ‘I fucked the dog’, ‘I’m going to throw up’, ‘the last time I was in this position I almost got a girl pregnant’ or- 

“I love you.” 

And then Tony was dragged out of his mindset by the ankles with his fingernails scarping at the floor as he failed to fight back. He was surprised that he was able to keep from dropping his towel.

“I’m sorry?”

Steve nearly turned as red as an apple. “Last night in bed,” he clarified, “you told me you loved me.” 

Tony could feel his stupid breath hitch and suddenly he was fucking embarrassed by that. And in front of Steve, nonetheless, his partner in crime who scratched his back (sometimes literally), and did him favors, and on occasion, sucked his dick.

Steve was reaching for the tempting orange when Tony punched him square in the shoulder.

“Ow!” Though he might as well have had skin of steel, Steve was still caught off guard, and the unexpected hit made his shoulder sore. While rubbing where it stung, he muttered in confusion, “What was that for?” 

“That’s it?” Tony yelled in disbelief. “You motherfuc- Jesus, Steve! You seriously got me all worked up for that? I thought I we got hitched or… arrested, or something!” 

“I told you it wasn’t that big of a deal!” Steve reminded, still massaging the reddening skin. 

Tony internal debated on whether or not he should apologize. Though, he had a terrible habit of unexpected things coming out his mouth while trying to say something good, so he thought it best to remain quiet. 

And then, mother fucking Steve Rogers, opened his mouth and asked the most disconcerting question in the entire world. “… Did you mean it?”

“Did I mean what?” Tony crossed his arms in annoyance. The towel started slipping down his left hipbone, which definitely caught Steve’s attention. 

“When you said that,” he finally blabbered, after his cheeks nearly went pink as the fresh mark on his arm. He was still looking at Tony’s hip, which Tony smugly made note of. 

Then, after being rewarded his delicious daily dose of making Steve awkward for his own enjoyment, Tony actually understood what he had asked.  
“Steve we- are you kidding me?” He nearly felt something hallow in his chest. “Are you asking - I mean? Steve, were… were you ever convinced I didn’t?” 

Steve looked up from Tony’s waist (finally), shrugged his shoulders, and was, at long last, able to reunite with his orange. “It’s not like you’d ever told me before.” 

“Really?” Tony asked in honest surprise, pulling up his towel, which had been slowly riding down his side over the past few minutes. “I just… I don’t know… sort of thought it was obvious. You know, like an unspoken truth sort of thing.” 

“Well,” Steve scrunched his face, and look over Tony’s shoulder. “I mean… yeah, we go out to dinners and shows… and we go to bed together but-“ he used his index finger to scratch an itch above his lip. “I see the way those gorgeous women throw themselves at you and- I mean, sometimes I wonder to myself if it’s ever really any competition.” 

Tony, astounded by this confession, didn’t respond by speaking. Instead, he stepped forward, and tilted his chin upward, pulling Steve into an open mouthed kiss. Unable to reach his tongue as far in has he’d like, he took hold of the sides of Steve’s face, and forced him in closer, dropping his towel on the floor and exposing his naked body.  
Steve wrapped his arms around Tony’s waist, willingly complying with moving closer as he now mouthed and sucked Tony’s bottom lip. 

“Tony…” Steve muttered into the shorter man’s mouth. He parted enough to look Tony in the eye, but stayed close enough so their bodies remained pressed together tightly. 

Tony looked Steve up and down, taking into account his pleading eyes, the little pout above his chin, the way his pants were buttoned and pressed. His warmth felt like home, and his blue eyes like sincerity. And Tony, reluctant to admit it, felt as though he was about to ooze onto the floor.  
And he answered, “Yes, I love you. Of course I love you.” 

He then relocated his mouth to Steve’s neck, and bit down teasingly, as if to prove this declaration of love. Steve grunted in pleasure as Tony ran his tongue along the skin, only stopping to suck on it. 

The moan, from just that (just giving him a hickey, Jesus Christ), caused Tony’s dick to twitch upward. The hardening erection pressed against Steve’s thigh, and Tony couldn’t help but grind into him in need of relieving his sexual frustration. 

Taking note of this, Steve began to walk himself and Tony backwards, neither taking their lips off the other’s as they moved. When Tony’s back finally came up against the wall, Steve lifted him slightly, and bent his knee so Tony could get more friction as he continued rolling his hips forward. 

“Too… too much clothes,” Tony grunted mindlessly while attempting to claw Steve’s shirt off. Steve took the hint and expertly lifted the long-sleeved blue obstruction off his torso and over his neck. 

Their lips crashed onto each other once again, and Steve reached down to wrap his hand around Tony’s dripping cock. Tony panted onto Steve’s tongue as the captain tightened his grasp and slowly pumped his fist up and down the shaft. “Bet you didn’t get anything like this last night at that stupid club,” he nearly growled, and jerked forcefully for emphasis as he finished the sentence. 

“God,” Tony tilted his head back until it hit the wall with a thud. “Je-esus, Steve, look at you.” 

Steve glanced up, and the smile that spread across his face was either completely innocent or maliciously evil. He looked down to see his hand was now glazed with pre-cum and he used the substance to lubricate Tony’s penis before continuing. He chuckled sincerely, “You really like it when we do this, don’t you?” 

Despite being a described by others as a genius, and having multiple doctorates, and getting a near perfect score on his SAT, Tony Stark was still unable to say anything intelligent when he was aroused like this. “F-uck, yes, Steve.” he groaned as if to say ‘isn’t it obvious?’, and Steve quickened his pace. 

“L-let’s go out for lunch,” Steve murmured into Tony’s ear, which, for whatever reason, just made his cock jerk upward again. “If you’re feeling better, that is.” 

“Oh Captain, oh my- Captain… In case you couldn’t tell I am– ah jeez – I’m feeling quite peachy right now.” he instinctually thrust into Steve’s hand and shuddered in pleasure with the friction of moving skin. “Let’s do this again tonight, eh? Only we won’t be – ugh – up against the wall like a-ah a couple of horny teenagers.” 

Steve somehow (Tony still hasn’t figured it out, for his eyes were closed during the moment) was able to reach his other hand behind Tony and run his pointer finger along his crack, gliding over its entrance. 

“Oh,” Tony gulped, and he felt pretty fucking shameless. This was quick and dirty and, though usually his taste, shouldn’t have made him as vocal as this. In desperation, he quickly wrapped his hand around his himself, and tugged in unison with Steve. 

Steve glided his tongue up Tony’s neck in one long stroke and nibbled at his ear once he’d reached the top. 

“Yes, yes, let’s continue this tonight, okay Steve? Let me fuck you good, okay, baby? I’ll fuck you, or – enugh – you’ll fuck me, who cares just, fuck I – I’ll suck you, babe, anything you want I’ll do for you. It’s - unh, I think about it all the time-“ his mouth ran on. 

“I-I want you too, Tony.” Steve’s breath was hot and it complimented his tousled blond hair. “I want you like this. I love you like this. Always. I want to make you feel good.” 

He lazily stroked his fingers over Tony’s hole again, causing him to catch his breath. “Mm- sir, yes, sir.” 

“Because I… I love you too Tony,” He continued, ignoring his friend’s exclamations of satisfaction. While proceeding to pump Tony’s cock with his right hand, his left returned back from Tony’s ass, and Steve used it to palm at his own erection through his pants. “I love you, and – unh – I-I…” 

He was cut off by a kiss, and Tony’s hands ran their way up his spine, gripping tighter for better leverage. Moaning with eyes shut, it only took a few more quick jerks of Steve’s wrist for Tony to orgasm, leaving Steve still half-dressed and panting furiously. 

Tony sunk lower, (due to Steve body not holding him up anymore, not – repeat not - because he was lack) in fulfillment.

“Looking a little red there Steve,” he gasped, surprised by his shortness of breath. 

Steve swiftly picked up Tony’s dropped towel to wipe his hands clean, and then tossed it to Tony suggesting he use it for the same purpose. 

“I’m going to go take a shower,” Steve’s voice cracked unexpectedly, which made him blush even more. He was always flustered after they did… that. Whatever that was. Though, whatever it was, it left Steve with his pants tenting over his crotch, and that pleased Tony almost as much as the amazing handjob he’d just received. “A cold shower,” Steve added. 

Tony covered himself with the sullied towel as he watched Steve turn away in a hurry. “Maybe I could assist you with that,” he prompted, only half joking. 

“Mm-uh, no,” Steve blurted out briskly with a laugh and then bit his bottom lip, desperately trying to distract himself from his own boner. 

“Or I could, you know… help with that.” 

“No, no. You just… just get dressed. We’re going to go out for lunch, right? Like I said?” 

“Anything you want, lovebug,” Tony sighed, and though he could feel himself smiling, he wasn’t able to stop. He hoped it could pass off as sarcasm.

Steve nodded and licked his lips. “I like this… us,” he admitted. 

“Me too,” Tony grinned. “Now go, get in the shower you filthy bastard. I’ll make a reservation.”

“Not that restaurant downstairs we went to yesterday,” Steve called out before closing the door. 

 

Tony, still with a towel clenched over his (very happy) junk, waddled over to the nearest phone in the suite. He was still grinning, and tried to convince himself it was from the sex, not because Steve’s furious blushing was adorable.  
He held the phone for a second before realizing he had no idea what Steve was in the mood for. Not to mention he’d just remembered that gorgeous sushi place a few blocks down and he had totally forgotten whether or not Steve even liked raw Japanese fish. 

The sound of running water from the shower didn’t stop him from knocking on the bathroom door. 

“What is it?” Steve called out over the noise. 

“You like sushi?” Tony called back, creaking the door open slightly (not peeking a look) so they weren’t yelling through more obstacles than they had to. 

“What?” Steve’s pretty wet head peeped out from behind the curtain.

“Sushi. Do you want it for lunch?” Tony stared at Steve’s reflection in the mirror instead, praying it was less obvious. 

“Uhm…” He had a head full of suds. Tony discreetly leaned slightly forward to get a better view, but that damn shower curtain kept obstructing his view. “Sure. Sounds good,” Steve followed up as he traced a bar of soap over his abdomen. 

“Great. Good,” Tony nodded. He paused before leaving, and inhaled uncomfortably during his moment of hesitation. “L-love you,” he croaked out instead of leaving. 

Steve looked into the mirror and met eyes with Tony before a little shy smile crept across his face. “Love you too,” he said softly. Tony subconsciously grinned before closing the door.


End file.
